Perfect
by Songstress Kitsune
Summary: Sasuke Uchiha was a fairly out-of-the-ordinary teen. He had no real friends, was ambushed daily by fangirls upon arrival at school, and had a dark past. Then, Naruto Uzumaki showed up, and his world was turned upside down. AU, SasuNaru, other pairings
1. Prolouge

**Perfect  
****An Alternate-Universe Naruto Fanfiction  
****By Blackfire Kiutsune  
****Pairings: SasukeNaruto, ZabuzaHaku, NejuTenten, KakashiIruka, KibaHinata, ShikamaruTemari, ChoujiIno, LeeSakura, AsumaKurenai  
****Warnings: Yaoi, AU  
****Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, there would be more than just hints of SasuNaru. Therefore, I clearly do not.**

**Prolouge**

People like to think that there is something bigger than them, have you noticed? I think that's why people have religions-because then there's something _more than them_. Something_ else_ responsible for their problems. It could never be humanity's fault, or even the fault of those who commit evil. There must be something bigger influencing events, be it divine punishment or demonic temptation. Maybe that's why I'm atheist/agnostic.

Of course, some people claim that they are influenced by voices in their heads. I don't doubt that some people are. What I do doubt is that most criminals who use the insanity defense really are crazy. Case in point, Ronald DeFeo. He swore up and down that it was "voices in his head" that told him to kill his family. In truth, he was motivated by greed, as his out-of-court actions showed. Too many people escape punishment by lying and saying they're crazy.

Criminal insanity is no more than a defense, an excuse criminal defense attorneys come up with to get a "not guilty" verdict. What they portray as insanity…it's nothing, or it's lies, or excuses. It's pathetic, really.

There's no way those criminals are really insane. I know this. I am Sasuke Uchiha, and I have seen true insanity.

This is the insanity that drives a man to kill his family not for money, or rage, or any other even slightly reasonable motive. No. He killed for the simple thrill of knowing he could.


	2. Don't Speak

**Perfect  
An Alternate-Universe Naruto Fanfiction  
By Blackfire Kiutsune  
Pairings: SasukeNaruto, ZabuzaHaku, NejuTenten, KakashiIruka, KibaHinata, ShikamaruTemari, ChoujiIno, LeeSakura, AsumaKurenai  
Warnings: Yaoi, AU  
Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, there would be more than just hints of SasuNaru. Therefore, I clearly do not.**

**Chapter One: Don't Speak**

* * *

It was sheer force of habit that woke me as the first graying light of dawn began to break in the window of my room. I wake at that hour because I do everything in the morning for myself, like most teenagers, and I also like to get to school early. Nothing I do in the morning before school is particularly unusual-I take a quick shower, eat breakfast, and dress. Ever since seventh grade, I've done the same thing, with a car thrown in last year for variety so I could drive to school instead of walking.

I only stood out once I got to school, thanks to the reason I always get there early and the one thing in my daily routine I really, really wish I could avoid.

The instant I exited my car, I was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of girls dressed in clothes that barely met the school's dress code. Every single one of them is a member of my "fanclub," and I despise them all. They refuse to leave me alone, and the only reason they "love" me is because I dress in dark clothes and, apparently, am "hot" to them. To top it all off, they can't even say my name properly, and nothing pisses me off more than that.

"My name is not _Sauce-kay_." I growled, for what felt like the billionth time. "It's _Sas-u-ke_." I pronounced it slowly and properly, hoping that it would finally penetrate the layers of air, cotton balls, and other miscellaneous fluff that seemed to insulate their brains from any sort of learning. "Now fuck off until you can get it right!" I forced my way through the gaggle, and I swore I heard the sound of swooning females behind me. Damn fanbitches. Why couldn't they go after a guy who _wanted_ their affections? Do women have some kind of strange "oh-my-God-he-treats-me-like-crap-I-love-him" complex embedded in that second X chromosome?

But no. Skanks love "emo kids."

I say "emo kids" in quote marks because I only dress like one and behave somewhat antisocially. Alright, and I listen to Panic! At The Disco. I've never made a public attempt at suicide, though, even though there have been times when I've seen it as a very, very good out.

Point being, I don't consider myself emo. I don't hang out with any particular group-or any group at all, really. So I don't appreciate their categorization.

"Hello, Sasuke." The soft, sweet voice drew my attention because it meant I had reached my locker. The girl with the one next to mine was one of perhaps two or three females at school whom I could count on not only to pronounce my name right but to never ask me out or flirt with me-Hinata Hyuuga.

"Hey, Hinata," I acknowledged her, but little more. That was how we related to each other-nothing more than short greetings at the locker before we went our separate ways. I haven't had friends for a long time, and I like it that way.

Once I'd dropped off my junk, I went to first hour AP Biology. I was taking two sciences at once-AP Bio and honors physics-so I would have an open spot in sciences my senior year. Thanks to block scheduling, we had ninety minute hours and seven minutes in the halls. Logically, I was early to biology, even accounting for two or three fanbitch ambushes in the halls.

When I walked into the classroom, I froze. It wasn't the lack of a teacher that surprised me- Kakashi-sensei, my first-hour teacher, was almost always late. No, it was the fact that the second seat at my lab table, unoccupied since the last person to sit there moved away at the beginning of this year, was now occupied by a boy with messy blonde hair and blue eyes, plus marks on his cheeks that almost looked like whiskers. I couldn't tell if they were pen, marker, or scars at the distance I was. The point being, I didn't know him and he didn't belong there.

Muttering nasty things about teachers who organized seats alphabetically and classes with only one empty seat, I took my usual seat and proceeded to pretend the seat next to me was as unoccupied as it usually was. Dealing with other people was not high on my list of things to do after several fanbitch ambushes.

I was doing a pretty good job of pretending he wasn't there, too. Then, he started to talk to me, and I got snappish. I had no idea what he said, because I was still coming out of tune-out land.

"Can't you see I'm trying to pretend you don't exist?" I said shortly. His eyes went wide and he looked vaguely like a kicked puppy, which sent a very easily quashed pang of guilt through me.

"I was just trying to be social. You don't have to be an ass," he muttered nastily.

"Maybe I am one." I shot back. Fanbitch ambushes tended to leave me annoyed for a while after. It was unfair to take it out on him, but at the time I didn't particularly care.

"Teme," He spat. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm so hurt," I grumbled sarcastically.

The bell rang, and the teacher had yet to arrive. That was no surprise, and people were discussing the "ten-minute limit," a school policy that meant that if a teacher didn't arrive in the first ten minutes of class, all the students were free to leave.

Eight and a half minutes later, Kakashi-sensei arrived.

"Sorry class, I wandered a bit off the path of life today," he began.

"You liar!" Sakura Haruno, a row ahead, shouted at him. Yes, just my luck, the two leaders of my "fanclub," Sakura and her former best friend Ino Yamanaka, were in my first-hour class. At the beginning of the year, they were inseparable, but their friendship had ended rather suddenly. Rumor said it was my fault, that the two were rivals for my affection. I didn't really care, since I thought they were both really annoying.

The class was incredibly boring, and so I didn't even bother listening-in fact, I slept. I did pick up the name of my seatmate-Naruto Uzumaki. The teacher was fairly constant about being late and arguing for most of the class. To pass the tests, the only thing you had to do was read the chapter, which was written on the blackboard in front of the class.

Class finally ended, and I went to my third-hour, English. The teacher, Kurenai-sensei, was, unlike Kakashi-sensei, a _good_ teacher. She said we would be starting a unit on mythology-not overly interesting to me, but better than some units, especially the one on utopia. The idea of a perfect society scared me. A lot.

Today was just an introduction, so I let my mind wander-back one class, to my encounter with Uzumaki. I had calmed down, and realized I had treated him pretty unfairly. It wasn't his fault he'd had the dubious "luck" of having to deal with me after a fanbitch ambush. I would have to apologize to him. Or something.

I got my chance in 7th hour PE. We also had 5th hour math, with Iruka-sensei, together but we sat so far apart I couldn't talk to him. In PE, however, I took an opportunity to go and talk to him.

"Hey Uzumaki," I began. He whirled to face me, and expression of surprise and then hatred crossing his face.

"What, _Sauce-kay_?" He growled. That's exactly how he pronounced it-and that was where he lost my sympathy.

"I was going to apologize for being an ass first hour, but if you'd rather be a dick, then that's fine with me." I informed him sharply. "Don't bother talking to me, dobe." I said, stalking off to my seat.

I discovered that dobe-"dead last"-was a fitting epithet for Uzumaki. Al we were doing was going over the rules of volleyball, and he seemed to have some sort of ADD that prevented him from so much as paying attention. Really, it was almost pathetic. I was just waiting for Gai-senesi, the teacher, to tell him to shut up, but he never did, simply plowing on with his explanation and using Rock Lee, his usual assistant, as a demonstrator.

He's the track team's star runner, but not particularly smart. I should know, as I've been forced to work "with" him on several projects and ended up doing them almost entirely by myself.

Wash, rinse, repeat for the rest of the week. Kakashi-sensei continued to be late and provide silly excuses, Uzumaki and I continued to be nothing but antagonistic to each other, and I continued to be accosted by fanbitches.

And then, Friday came around.

Why wa Friday special? Well, there was the usual "thank God it's Friday" euphoria. On top of that, Uzumaki and I were first forced to work together.

How? Kakashi-sensei presented us with a lab, and those were partner activities. Usually I worked by myself or suffered whoever Kakashi-sensei chose for me to work with, but now things were different. I had a seatmate. If we didn't work together and attempt civility, we would both lose points. I didn't want that.

I spent quite some time mentally cursing Kakashi-sensei and his system; though later I was glad for it. If it hadn't been this, I was sure, Uzumaki and I would have been forced to be nice some other way. This just accelerated the process. Or, potentially, we would have spent the year hating each other and a lot of things would have been pretty different.

I have to say, the first minute or so was tense. Finally, I managed to mutter out a quiet, "let's get started." The assignment wasn't hard, but there was a lot of it. We were given dichotomous keys and told to classify several animals. We traded off the "observer" and "recorder" roles, though I always checked Naruto's answers. To my amazement, ADD-kid was right. Since I had done much of the writing, as Naruto and I both agreed I had more readable handwriting, Kakashi-sensei assumed that I had done everything, and he said so.

"Hey! I did half the work!" Uzumaki protested. I just nodde,d not speaking, to acknowledge the truth in his statement. Kakashi-sensei looked impressed.

"Really. That's excellent, boys. Glad you could get past your differences and do a good job on your lab." He said.

I was surprised to find that it wasn't hard to just chat with Naruto. He was smarter than I'd assumed, and I felt almost guilty for how cruel I'd been to him. He was, I learned, a pretty nice kid, if a little overly hyper. We still traded barbs, though they felt less serious and more like a friendly rivalry.

When I left class, something occurred to me.

The blonde brat had made himself into the first friend I had in nearly five years.


End file.
